Margaritaville

I have left behind the drudgery of my previous life.

I now work in an office (though this seems an odd thing to call such a place) where we have margaritas on Friday afternoons and people go around singing obscure 80s songs, or show tunes, or made up songs about their day. There is almost unending flexibility in schedules but this is combined with enough work to keep us all busy for much more than 40 hours a week. I feel unflaggingly happy to be here.

I may, on occasion, complain about work: about being too busy; about the level of non-organization that sometimes comes with it; about some of the day-to-day. But please remember (and please remind me) that I can drink margaritas here...and listen to 80s music or show tunes.... or just sing about the pencil sharpener.